At the Stroke of Midnight (reader-insert)
by CloudSpires1295
Summary: It's been a long, surprisingly nice year since the reader sold her soul to save the lives of her boys, Sam and Dean but, like all good things, it's bound to come to an end... a violent, blood-soaked end at the stroke of midnight. Rated T for slightly detailed description of a Hellhound attack. AU with no pairings.


**I wasn't planning on posting this, as I'm aware that there's already a reader-insert up on the site using this prompt, but dammit, I couldn't stay away from it. The tenses might be a little weird, I switched them from past tense to present tense before posting and might've missed a few, so yeah… uh, check it out and tell me what you think. One thing that's different about this one and the one that's already up is that I'm not going to write beyond the reader dying because I don't even want to **_**try**_** describing hell. I could always go with the season 3 finale, but I don't wanna write something we've already seen. So, sorry to disappoint on that front, but this is what I've got. Enjoy!**

**Another thing, this is an AU that follows SPN up to Dean coming back from hell but completely ignores the Seals, Lilith, Sam's thing with Ruby, the demon blood... basically nothing major from season 4 happened in this AU, save for Dean coming back. Are the angels involved? We're gonna pretend like they pulled Dean out of hell for shits and giggles, _or _to screw around with the demons, and left him alone after that.**

**One more thing, the term '_shits and giggles_' is super hilarious to me for some odd reason. That is all. Enjoy the fic!**

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You sit stiffly on your bar stool, sliding your beer back and forth between your two hands. You couldn't keep your eyes from drifting anxiously over to the clock hanging over the bar door and, with shaking hands, raised the beer bottle to your lips to take a quick gulp.

"Hey, Y/N," Dean pops up behind you, holding a pool stick aloft, "whadya say to a quick game of pool with your big brother?"

"I-I'm not in the mood, Dean, I'm sorry," You respond morosely, eyes flicking back to the clock, "maybe Sammy'll play with you."

"I don't think Sasquatch wants to get embarrassed tonight," the eldest Winchester brother chortles, and then sobers up, noting your stiff posture and the shiftiness of your eyes, "somethin' wrong, sis?"

_11:53, _the clock reads almost mockingly, and you feel your heart begin to pound in your chest as the distant sounds of howling canines reach your ears, even over the din of the bar. Of course, Dean can't hear it, and the concern in his green eyes only grows at the sight of the horror in yours.

"Y/N," he speaks with a slight edge in his voice, "what's wrong?" At that moment, Sam returns to the bar, having left to relieve his bladder. He raises a curious brow at the tension between you and Dean.

"Dean, I…" You trail off, unsure of how to finish, "r-remember that trio of shifters we hunted last spring in Utah? You and Sammy got knocked out cold and, when you came to, I'd already ganked them?" You begin to twirl a loose green thread hanging from the hem of your flannel around one finger.

_11:54_

"Yeah, that was pretty bad ass, sis," Dean responds, reaching out to ruffle your hair lovingly, "what's that gotta do with you being stiff as a corpse, though?"

"Well, I didn't tell you but… you guys actually _weren't_ unconscious," You bite down on your bottom lip apprehensively, "the shifters got the drop on the two of you and… they killed you. And I—"

"Oh _hell_ no," the eldest Winchester utters, horrified as he quickly puts the pieces you've given him together, "sis, tell me you didn't—"

"I couldn't," You force back a soft sob, "I couldn't go on in this world without my big brothers," you look fondly at both your brothers, knowing that this would be one of the last few moments you'd get to spend with them both, "I'd do anything for you two, you know that."

"But… Y/N," Sam's voice is choked, and his eyes are glimmering with quickly forming tears, "you sold your _soul_ for us? Sis, come on, I know you remember what we went through with Dean—"

"The deal's up tonight, isn't it?" Dean's voice is cool and emotionless, "that's why you're watching the clock like a hawk, right? God dammit," he sucks in a sharp breath, gazing at you sadly, "God, Y/N, I can't lose you to that fucking place. To those hell bitches." he rakes an angry hand through his dirty blonde hair, muttering curses under his breath.

_11:56_

"I need to get out of here," you murmur, "I don't want you two to have to explain to these people how I got torn apart by thin air." You stand shakily from your bar stool and wrap your arms around Sam's tapered waist.

"I love you guys," you whisper, moving to hug Dean, who looks completely and utterly crushed by your news, "it was worth it."

"We're gonna get you out of there as soon as we can," the eldest Winchester murmurs, holding you so tight it almost hurts, "I'll be damned if my baby sis has to roast for long." You press your nose into Dean's neck and inhale the lingering scent of worn leather, gun powder, and hint of mint that always seems to follow him everywhere. You'll miss it dearly, hell, your heart is already starting to ache for it as you pull away.

As you make to leave, you look over your shoulder at your brothers as they make to follow you and shake your head solemnly, "I don't want either of you to watch this… stay here."

"Y/N—"

"No," you shake your head vehemently, cutting off Sam's protest, "you had to watch Dean get ripped apart, I'm not gonna let you watch it happen to me."

_11:57_

You hurry out of the bar, biting down on your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, as the howls grow louder and closer. You sprint to the tree line behind the dive bar and begin to push your way through the trees, determined to distance yourself from your brothers. The last thing you wanted was for them to hear you screaming.

_11:58… 11:59…_

God, you're so scared you can barely keep your legs moving. You come to a stop in a small moonlit clearing and stand at the center, counting down the seconds until it was time for the Hell bitches to claim your soul. As frightened as you were, you felt not a single shred of regret. Your boys would live to continue doing what they did best, saving lives and hunting things. The family business.

The moment midnight fell, you could feel its poignancy fall over you, resonating through your soul and settling deeply in your bones. The low rustles and growls in the underbrush begin to advance on you and, opening your eyes, you spy two Hell-hounds approaching, red eyes flashing in the moonlight. A smile of acceptance stretches over your lips and you spread your arms in a welcoming gesture.

_Come and get it, bitches…_

A powerful set of jaws sink in the skin below your ribcage, and you feel an utterly inhuman howl of pain rip free from your throat. A sharp set of claws rake through your left thigh, shredding the muscle and tendons beneath the skin, and you can't keep from crumpling to the ground, in pain and completely at the hounds' mercy. Soft, pained whimpers escaped your mouth, growing into screeches and wails as the dogs tear into your gut and thighs, ripping you apart to get at your soul.

_Please… please… just end it… end it, please…_

A sickening squelch reaches your ears as sharp canines sink into your now-exposed innards and begin to pull… and pull… and pull. God, the sensation's utterly unbearable. You writhe and wail in agony; the grass around you is slowly turning red as blood pours out of your mutilated body. You have the pleasure of watching one of the hounds swallow your stomach and part of your intestines whole before your vision finally begins to dull and blur. Around the edges, giving everything a shiny sort of haze.

Faintly, over the sickening sounds of your body being devoured, you swear you can hear you brother's voices, calling for you. Thinking it to simply be your dying body's attempt to cushion you from the impact of your impending demise, you give a reedy sigh of relief as the agonizing pain you're in begins to dull. Blood dribbles and bubbles from between your lips, running down your chin and jawline as the bitches continue to devour your meat and gnaw at your bones, and you wonder, dimly, why you aren't dead yet.

The tell-tale sound of two sawn-offs firing bleeds into your cotton-filled ears, and you hear the hounds whine before backing off from their meal and vanishing. Through hazy eyes, you watch your wonderful, stubborn big brothers drop down on their knees on either side of you, looking down at you with concern and horror in their eyes. Their hands flutter over you, clearly unsure of whether or not they should touch you, not wanting to cause you anymore pain.

"D'n… S'mmy…" You mumble weakly, a lopsided smile forming on your bloody lips. The pain has faded to a dull throb, and you knew that meant that it wouldn't be too much longer before you were whisked off to hell.

"Dammit, Y/N," Dean seethed quietly, "you should've told us…"

"Ddn't know 'ow…" You manage to breathe, groaning quietly as your vision continues to fade, "love… S'mmy, D'n…" Everything was going numb and fading, but you fought to keep your boys in your sight until your eyes refused to see any longer.

"Love you too, Y/N," Sam's voice was shaky with unshed tears, and he gently pulls your limp body into his arms so you're lying against his chest and begins to rock you gently as you slip away from them. Dean's hand never left yours until your heart gave its very last beat. The last thing you felt was your boys' lips on your cheeks.

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**Hope you liked it!**

**~_CloudSpires1295_~**


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